Watching
by stl85
Summary: Two one-shots that are related. First in Sheldon's POV then Penny's. Why aren't they together? K to a light T, depending on how you look at it.
1. Sheldon

**When I wrote this, I wrote it fast. It was by far one of the easiest things that I have ever written. I had to get it out. Hope you enjoy.**

**Of course I don't own them, the show, or anything that looks like them or the show. I do own a lot of student loans in case anyone wants them...no? That's what I thought.**

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**You watch, constantly.**

You watch her even when you know you shouldn't. A causal glance through the peephole when you hear noises outside. You watch her being physical with the neanderthals that she brings home and toys with, wishing it was you who had her pressed up against the wall. You who was tasting her skin, you whose hands were discovering the secrets of her body.

You watch her every Tuesday. You changed your schedule to make sure you had her undivided attention at least one day a week. The fact that she always gets your order wrong is irrelevant. You know that she leaves that tomato on your plate simply to bother you, unless she is mad. When she is mad at you she makes sure that there are tomatoes all over the plate, even on your fries. You never once complained.

You watch her face, her oh so expressive face. Concentration, happiness, sadness, it doesn't matter. You watch it all out of the corner of your eyes.

**You listen, constantly**.

You listen to her complain about work. Long hours on her feet in a menial job do make for some interesting stories, even if you will never admit it. You believe half of her joy is forcing you to listen to her.

You listen to her joy. How she is so exuberant about the smallest things. Her excitement when she goes on auditions, determined that this is the break she is looking for.

You listen to her problems be they big or small. Her problems about how to make rent, how she can't find that special someone. How she doesn't know why her life isn't the way she thought it would be. How she can't decide if she wants to relax or go out for the night. You revel these circumstances, because she asks for your opinion then. She wants to know what you have to say, and at these times you try your hardest to treat her just like you would anyone else.

**You touch, when you can.**

She sits beside you on the couch, occasionally you let your leg touch hers. It means nothing to her but everything to you. You live for the times when she accidentally brushes her hand against your thigh when she gets up, even if you make her apologize for it.

When you hand her things you allow your hands to touch. She thinks nothing of it, just par for the course when something is given to someone. You savor it. It is the only time that you can touch her without anyone being the wiser. She has no clue that you don't allow anyone, even your mother, this treatment.

You hug her rarely, and it's not nearly as much as you want to. You hug her when she gives you that napkin, that wonderful napkin. It was beyond thoughtful, beyond friendship for her to do that for you. A hug was certainly necessary. You were amazed at how soft her skin was, how her body curved into yours just right. How perfect it felt. You didn't want to let go. You didn't let go until her posture indicated that she wanted you to pull back. You hug her so rarely because you are certain that the next time will be the time that you don't let go.

**You don't tell her**.

You don't tell her because it wouldn't make any difference. All it would do is make her feel bad that she doesn't feel the same way. You don't want that. You don't want her to be uncomfortable around you anymore than she is.

You would rather have her friendship than nothing at all.

You don't tell her because of Leonard, your first friend. He is so enamored of her, and it would break his heart if there was a slim chance of her returning your feelings. He is the one person on this planet that isn't related to you that puts up with you on a daily basis. No matter what they say you know how to be a friend, and you are a good friend too.

You don't tell her because you know that you can't be what she wants. You have never been good at expressing your feelings, they make you uncomfortable. When your genius was being nurtured somehow the person got lost. You never learned how to deal with the human side of life, it's why you cling to what is known instead of unknown. Your mysophobia is such that even though you want to touch her, want to hold her, just the thought of being intimate with her sends you straight into the shower for a twenty minute scrub down. She is a physical person who has physical needs. Just hugging her is as far as you can go without a panic attack.

You will never be what she wants, what she needs. So all you do is watch, listen, and barely touch her when you think no one is looking. You do all this because that's all you can give. It's all that she will accept from you.

You will keep doing it for as long as she lets you.


	2. Penny

**You watch, constantly.**

You watch him when he thinks that no one is looking, those rare chances give you a glimpse of who he really is. He is more causal then, more relaxed in his own skin when he thinks he's alone. It's the main reason why you don't knock, instead you just walk right in. It's the only way you get to see him like that.

You watch him every Tuesday too. You couldn't believe it when he changed his schedule. Personally you don't think that the burgers at work are anything to write home about, but he seems to enjoy them. You can't help messing with his order though, putting that tomato on his plate every single time. Each time you do he berates you, although he never asks for your boss. At that point in time you are his sole focus. It must be what his whiteboards feel like.

You watch his face out of the corner of your eye. It took a long time for you to find expression in that face, sometimes it seemed to be made out of stone. But then you find a tick here, a slight twinkle in his eyes there. Little things give him away, and you take great delight in discovering each and every one of them.

**You listen, constantly.**

You tell him stories about work just to hear him tell you that he doesn't care. You discover that when you two are alone, he is more expressive. Instead of dirty looks you get stories of your own. Stories about Germany, stories about his childhood. When you get those stories his voice gets musical, the southern twang that he tries so hard to suppress comes out.

You ask his advice for all of your problems, big and small. He doesn't seem to care as long as he can give you a solution. You ask for his opinion and listen to his voice carefully. You can't make out what some of the more complicated words are, and make a mental note to look them up later. But you do listen to the tone of his voice. It has a wonderful ebb and flow to it and you love to hear it.

**You touch, when you get the chance.**

You sit next to him on the couch, the middle cushion has become your spot. You guard it almost as zealously as he does his. You sit there because every once in awhile his leg touches yours and it sends shivers up and down your entire body. You wear the shortest outfits that you can just so that there is one less layer between you and him. Every great while you use his thigh as a launch pad for you to get up. Your hand touches him and for that split second you let yourself enjoy it. Then he forces you to say sorry. You don't care, it was worth it.

You live for the days that he hands you things. He doesn't seem to notice that his hands touch yours almost every time. It sends sparks down your body every time.

You hug him for far too long, and he doesn't know any different. The napkin that started it all, you think you might love that napkin a bit more than is healthy. When you gave him that he willingly wrapped himself around you for almost a whole minute. It was glorious until you cuddled in closer. He pulled back after that, coming to his senses. You live for the chance to give him something that wonderful again, because that means another hug. You hope that one day he hugs you and doesn't let go.

**You don't tell him.**

You don't tell him because it wouldn't make any difference. He has stated time and time again how he doesn't want a romantic relationship of any kind, he is above all of that. Telling him would only leave you raw and bleeding. He can't change who he is.

You prefer his friendship to nothing at all.

You don't tell him because of Leonard. No matter what he says you know that Leonard is one of his best friends. You also know Leonard has a thing for you. Even if he did reciprocate, which he doesn't, he would never hurt Leonard in that way. He is to good of a friend.

You don't tell him because you can't be what he wants, what he needs. You aren't smart, you barely graduated high school. You need the dictionary\Internet combo to even have the slightest clue what he does for a living. You would never be able to keep up with him, and he'd get bored with you. It would break your heart to see him leave you behind.

You will never be what he wants, what he needs. So all you do is watch, listen, and barely touch him when you think no one is looking. You do all this because that's all you can give. It's all that he will accept from you.

You will keep doing it for as long as he lets you.


End file.
